


Teleos Magna

by Rosetta



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe, HELLA LOTS OF BLOOD, Loosely based on megaten/persona series, M/M, Mention of blood, There is time travel involved LOL
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-17
Updated: 2017-02-18
Packaged: 2018-09-25 00:56:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9795143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rosetta/pseuds/Rosetta
Summary: Thou art I and I am thou. From the sea of thy soul, I come...In which Victor Nikiforov holds a strange power and Katsuki Yuuri is an unwilling fighter. Oh, and there were demons.





	1. Omnis

**Author's Note:**

> "I know you want to touch me" he said.  
> "I'm going to get pregnant if I touched them" i still can't. So here i am.
> 
> That said there will be no pregnant Yuuri in this, only a monster shadow based on the poor gay childman's insecurities and duality. Now THAT, that thing could be different case because I'm not bound by lore continuity shit like Atlus maybe but have you seen what Atlus could do? No? Please visit the megaten/persona section and ask the writers there. We've literally seen literal hell.
> 
> Yes I might be a bit drunk but dw you don't need to be to enjoy this.

It all began with Yuuri getting hungry one midnight.

Now, ramen had been the staple food of everyone living alone (defined as 'could be with a friend but with no one capable of properly taking care of themselves) in the past decade at the very least, and 20-years old Yuuri Katsuki is but a common man who is not exempt from the rules of the universe. As such, of course when he got hungry he would go looking for some instant ramen.

And of course, naturally, the universe conspired against him and gave him a shelf devoid of cup noodles.

"Phichit, did you eat my noodle again!?"

There was an unapologetic "YEAH DUDE SORRY BOUT THAT" that echoed through the hallways of the shared apartment.

Yuuri rolled his eyes. He really should get through with locking his part of the shelf, although Phichit would probably just break it. Again.

He looked at the wall clock, a digital signage that was blinking mechanically with the number 23:44 in blocky red font. It was almost midnight, and while he didn't have tutorial classes the next day, it was still a bad day to sleep late to because he actually had two back-to-back lectures. Sure he could sleep through those lectures, but...

He looked at the empty shelf.

The clock was still ticking.

Yuuri wistfully sighed, eventually. The heart may be willing but the body is weak, so he found himself walking to the door, not forgetting to take his jacket as he went out.

 

* * *

 

The night air wasn't too cold, but it was still chilly enough that Yuuri was thankful he didn't leave his jacket behind. At the very least, it wasn't thick enough that he had to take it off when he arrived at the convenience store just round the corner from his apartment.

He gave an acknowledging nod at the cashier guy, who if he didn't see wrong had silvery tufts of hair under that ungodly bright magenta cap of his. Where did they even sell that colour? He shook his head quietly after he disappeared into the rows of products in the surprisingly well-stocked mini market.

He quickly navigated himself to the instant food section, and found the cups and cups of various instant noodle brands at their usual place. Nisshun, Imdoni, and Maggo had been his favourites, but just as he was going to pick a Padang-flavoured Imdoni, he noticed one product he had never seen before.

"Katsumie?" He raised an eyebrow as he picked the large styrofoam bowl. It was considerably larger than the other cup noodles on the shelf, and on its label was katsudon. With noodle instead of rice. Amazing.

Katsudon is Yuuri's favourite food in the whole wide world after all, so he put the bowl and two more into his basket. They were less than 2 dollars each.

He roamed around the mini market a little bit more, making sure to take some drinks before he go back. He almost yelled when he found out that the shop had just began stocking Ramine drinks (in original, strawberry AND melon favours!), and it took the weight (or lack thereof) of his wallet to remind him that his thin spending money needs no more denture. Not after he bought that Nikiforov limited edition photobook last week. Nope. Nnnnope.

He ended up buying dollar cokes.

He brought his stuff to the front, and the magenta cap dude was still standing at the till, comfortably listening to the relaxing background music which Yuuri recognized was the ending song to an ongoing Korean drama series. His face was unreadable, thanks to the gaudy magenta mask he was wearing.

The fuck is between this guy and magenta anyway?

Yuuri didn't say anything as he dumped the content of his basket onto the conveyor belt, from which magenta dude picked his cup noodles and coke bottles up, scanned them and put them into bags. Recyclable of course, Lawsun is a very environment-friendly chain.

"That'll be twenty-three dollars. You also get some free coupons for a session in the Prima ice rink, by the way."

The magenta dude's voice wasn't too bad, Yuuri thought, when said cashier finally spoke to him. As he put down a twenty bill and a five, his hand brushed with magenta's fingers, and quickly he pulled back as he felt a sudden jolt of electricity in his hand.

"Sorry, must be static." Magenta said, with a wince that showed in his eyes. "It usually means it's going to rain. You should hurry back home."

"That's a funky trick."

"Yeah. Bit annoying, but it is handy." The cashier looked at his watch and Yuuri could see the corners of his eyes rise in a probable smile. "Do you, uh, want me to drive you back or something?"

"No, I live at the apartment just down the road. But thanks." Yuuri smiled at magenta dude and made sure he gave him a proper goodbye wave before he left. Despite his horrendous fashion statement, he wasn't so bad after all.

 

* * *

 

Yuuri had a fever dream that night.

Nothing too weird, just him running endlessly in a misty corridor with no end. Even though it was a dream, he could feel his leg becoming shaky and his breath getting shorter. It felt like he was running away...away from something. But from what? He'd look back and see nothing but a dark chasm behind him, not unlike what he could see when he look ahead.

The mist got thicker as he ran, until at some point, all he could see was white.

Then he began hearing voices.

 

* * *

 

The only thing he remembered from his dream in the morning was "show me your eros".

Phichit complained about him hogging the bathroom for an hour.

 

* * *

 

"You look horrible, mon cher."

Yuuri lazily looked up from his book to see Chris in the eye. "Morning, Chris-san." he greeted, smiling at the bright-eyed senior. "You look dashing. Like always."

"That's cute, Katsuki, but let's go back to you." Yuuri whined when Chris pushed the intimidating tome called History of Design away from Yuuri's loose hands. "Hangover?"

"No, just a bad dream.  _Really._ " Yuuri had to put in an emphasis on seeing Chris' doubtful look. "Unlike you, I don't go out drinking in the middle of the week..."

"Implying that you do so on weekends, but I digress." Chris grinned, ignoring his junior's pitiful 'leave me alone' plea. History of Design was already back into Yuuri's hands, which gripped the book like it was the Holy Grail this time round.

The 22-years old then moved to take the empty seat right across Yuuri and casually put his foot on the table, merely shrugging at Yuuri's disappointed glare. "Test day today?" he asked, after about fifteen minutes of silence between them.

"Tomorrow."

Yuuri turned to page 144.

"Saturday test? That's hideous." Chris cringed. "When I was sophomore exams were always done in-class."

"Celestino didn't come to class last week so we're having make-up class tomorrow."

"I see. Awful, innit?"

"If you mean it's awful because he's the one who was absent and we ended up losing a weekend then yeah. It is." Yuuri turned to page 145. 146. "If you mean the weekend exam then yeah. It _bloody is_."

Chris laughed.

"Your bad boy streak is coming out, Yuuri."

"Shh. It's the library."

Chris laughed silently.

"Really though, your bad boy streak is surfacing again," Chris grinned as he leaned over the table to take a look at Yuuri's hands. "Where did you get these sick tattoos?"

"What tattoo?"

"The ones on your hands?"

Yuuri put the history book down and took a look at his hands. Rather than his normally plain hands and fingers, what he saw was a slight blue dying the tips of his fingers, with little snowflakes scattered from the tips all the way down to his wrist.

"What the _fuck_."

"Yuuri, are you sure you haven't been drinking?" Chris asked, this time with genuine concern as Yuuri looked at the back of his hands too, horror dawning on him when he saw that the blue tint was even stronger on the back.

"I am! ...I think..."

"Should I call Phichit?"

Yuuri didn't answer, so Chris made the call eventually.

Phichit confirmed that no one had been drinking anything. Chris doubted both of them and told their junior to accompany Yuuri home.

Yuuri flat out refused to miss Environment Studies.

 

* * *

 

Aside from the few questions and statements made about his hands, Yuuri's day didn't pass with any apparent hitch.

But when he got home in the evening, Yuuri could feel a pounding headache and unexpected fatigue burning him from inside. He eventually decided to cancel his plan going out with Phichit ("First you said you're okay and you want to go out and now you're bailing on me YUUURIIIIII...") and opted to rest instead before preparing one last time for his Saturday exam.

He opened the kitchen shelf the moment he got back and pulled out the Katsumie he bought last night. He had planned to eat it first, but the intimidating size of the bowl had deterred him from trying and he ate the Padang Imdoni instead. Midnights are never good for big eating.

Evenings, however.

He poured some hot water into the bowl and covered it with the noodle stopper he got from Yuuko for christmas. Why he got a  _touken danshi_ noodle stopper instead of something like  _kancolle_ , he didn't ask, but Yuuko had been a rather observant person anyway, so maybe she saw something in him that he didn't. Yuuri turned the TV on as he waited, and promptly gasped when Viktor Nikiforov appeared on TV.

"Second year..." Yuuri muttered as he sat down, after putting his cup noodle on the table. The Viktor in the TV smiled brightly as he answered some questions about his second-year victory streak with interviewers, his silvery long hair tied in a clean ponytail that showed his face in all its beautiful glory. He sighed. There's something innately mesmerizing from the danseur, although Yuuri couldn't really pinpoint if it was his ethereal beauty or the grace he showed on the stage.

His mind went back to his late teens, where at some point he did try dancing. He smiled a bit when he remembered the three winning trophies that was still decorating his mother's inn the last time he went home. He wasn't too bad when he was still actively dancing.

Why did he stop, again?

Oh, right.

He absently rubbed his left ankle, his eyes not leaving the TV as he did. At one point there was a horrid broken bone sticking  _out_ from there, and it took him an entire year of therapy until he could walk again. Even now, adequately observant people would notice that he still walk with a slight limp, despite the wound completely healed up already. His doctor told him it was psychological. There was actually no more pain on his foot so maybe it was true.

Yuuri was never strong enough in the psychological front. He'd consider himself stubborn, but he also knew that he was...weak. Otherwise he would be dancing again by now, maybe even side by side with Viktor.

Or not.

Who was he kidding.

The content of the large bowl of katsudon-flavoured noodle quickly disappeared into Yuuri's stomach after it cooked for five minutes. He huffed as he threw the bowl into the bin - as delicious as it was, it was still leagues away from a real katsudon (of course), and it actually left him craving for the real stuff.

Keyword craving.

He looked at the mirror and sighed at the slightly chubby face looking back. He hadn't been dancing seriously for a while since his accident two years ago, but there was something pleasant from seeing himself in tip-top condition. _Poor university student_ ™ lifestyle hadn't been exactly supporting that, and he could see the fat piling on his face and around his tummy. There goes the katsudon, he thought, as he turned the TV off. He promised himself that he'll start jogging again after exams week.

For now, it's rest time.

 

* * *

 

_"Show me your deepest parts, Yuuri."_

 

* * *

 

Yuuri woke up with a start, as if someone had just slapped him awake.

He realized he was sweating cold when he touched the back of his neck. His hands were shaking, and he could feel a chilling shiver up his spine. Something was wrong.

There was a strange metallic smell in the air. He reached to his glasses and stumbled as he put it on, but even with the glasses all he could see was pitch darkness.

He looked at the wall clock. It was dead.

His analog watch showed midnight. The hands didn't move.

"Phichit?" He shouted out to his roommate. "Is the power out?"

There was no answer, and Yuuri began to worry.

He decided to step out from his room, yelping slightly when his feet touched something wet and warm on the floor. The smell of blood filled the room, and it wasn't helping the dreadful feeling that threatened to burst from inside him. The blood, the darkness - was there a murderer going out loose in their apartment?

He grabbed the nearest weapon he found - Phichit's hockey stick that was sitting on the hallway wall.

The living room was the only room with a large window in their apartment, and so when Yuuri stepped into the living room, he finally got to see the situation in the room.

The moon outside was an eerie blood red, and the sky was glowing a sickly shade of yellowish-black. And under the bleak moonlight, Yuuri could see the usually white and brown apartment room instead became red and...red. Blood was staining the white wool rug Phichit loved so much, and more blood was blotching the leather chair, the TV, everything. The white walls were brown, with blackened blood dripping down the ceilings, the sound echoing grimly in Yuuri's ears.

This was no mere loose murderer.

Yuuri's entire body tensed when he heard a loud stomp from the entry hall. His grip on the hockey stick tightened as he crouched behind the sofa, ignoring the pooling blood that he knew would badly stain the pants he was wearing. The sounds of footsteps mixed with the squelching sound of blood puddles as it came closer and closer.

Yuuri counted five.

Then he swung.

 

* * *

 

The power went back on the moment the hockey stick connected to  _something_ , and the sudden burst of light made Yuuri scream the same time a loud "FUCK!" resounded from his victim.

Before Yuuri knew it, the hockey stick was ripped off his hand and he was kicked down onto the floor. A foot stepped on his stomach, and Yuuri suddenly found himself staring at the crooked end of Phichit's hockey stick.

"What the  _fuck_ was that, pig!?" a loud, accented voice boomed, and when Yuuri shifted his head to take a better view at the intruder, the hockey stick pressed closer onto his face, threateningly close to ripping both his eyes out.

A noise was heard from the bedroom hallways, and it didn't take long until Phichit, clad in his favourite night dress, stumbled out with a panicked-and-dazed face.

"Yuuri, I heard screaming- wha...Who are you?" The tan boy's eyes scrutinized the blonde petite intruder, then they moved to his weapon of choice. "Is that  _my_ hockey stick?"

"You live here?" the intruder glared at Phichit, but it was Yuuri who answered.

"We...we do."

"Shut up, pig, no one asked you!" his glare shot towards Yuuri one more time, but his eyes visibly widened in shock when he saw the blue tint and snowflakes dotting Yuuri's hands. "Where did you get those?"

"G-get what?"

"Those!" the hockey stick pointed sharply at Yuuri's blue hands. Yuuri gulped and raised his hands.

"I-I don't know."

" _HUUH?"_

"I DON'T KNOW!"

Yuuri closed his eyes, expecting the blonde intruder to smack him with the hockey stick (or worse), but the impact he waited for never came. Instead, when he opened his eyes, the hockey stick was no longer pointed at him. The intruder was biting his thumb, his jaws clenching and...fear? Yuuri could sense the fear and disappointment from the boy's suddenly tense stance. He was mumbling in a language Yuuri didn't recognize, and Yuuri slightly jumped when the boy suddenly turned to him.

His voice was slightly shaking.

 

 

"Pig, answer this honestly. Have you made contact with Viktor Nikiforov recently?"

 


	2. Saltus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~Three chapters are not enough for this trainwreck.~~

Yuuri and Phichit didn't recognize him at first, but the intruder was Yuri Goddamn Plisetsky.

Yuri Plisetsky,  _twelve_ years old junior danseur, son of world-famous actress Yulia Vasiliva and danseurMiska Plisetsky was in _their_ humble Struggling University Student™ apartment.

But the more Yuuri looked at the Yuri in front of him, the less he believed the boy was twelve. Yuuri was still taller than the boy, but there was only one head difference between them, and last time he checked twelve-years old were not supposed to be  _that_ tall. Then there was also the issue with his personality - the Yuri Plisetsky that he knew was this cute angel with the smile of a cupid and the grace of an egg sitting in perfect balance on the tip of a stick.  _This_ Yuri Plisetsky had just kicked him to the floor, threatened him with a bloody  _hockey stick_ , straight up called him  _pig_ even though they had never met each other personally, and let's not forget the whole intrusion into a private space part?

So far, _this_ Yuri Plisetsky is only Yuri Plisetsky in face and name. At least for Yuuri and Phichit.

"Now that we've all calmed down, let's start from the beginning." Phichit clapped his hands together. Plisetsky was fuming as he sat on one of the detached armchairs, while Yuuri and Phichit sat next to each other on the sofa. The entire room was back to its white and brown, and to Yuuri's relief  _and_ confusion, there was not a single speck of blood seen anywhere. There wasn't even a smell - it was strange. He even flipped the wool rug around just to make sure, and sure enough, it was as if the whole bloody mess he saw just minutes earlier was merely a figment of fatigue and imagination.

It was too strange for his liking.

"You know who I am." the fuming Yuri said, his arms crossed and his glare even more crossed. "I don't think I'm going to have to explain that."

"I'd like to at least know why you broke into our apartment in the middle of the night." Phichit replied with feigned irritation. "Not to mention you look quite different than you usually do, Yuri Plisetsky. You look..."

Phichit looked at Yuuri.

Yuuri gulped.

"You look older."

"That."

The blond's stare at them was unreadable.

"But if you're not going to elaborate on that, that's fine." Phichit shrugged. Yuuri yelped when Phichit suddenly grabbed his hand and brought it up, pointing to the blue tint that was spreading down his hands. His finger tips was beginning to turn black. "You seem to know something about this, and  _this_ I'd really love you to elaborate on, because Yuuri seems to be absolutely clueless about this."

"That's a mark." Yuri spat, and his face somehow turned  _angrier_ than it was before. "You still haven't answered my question, pig."

"I-I have a name, you know."

" _PIG_."

Yuuri shut his mouth.

"Have you made contact with Viktor at all?"

Yuuri dared to look straight into the young danseur's eyes, trying to make sure if he was joking, but there was nothing but conviction and intense anger in the raging green eyes. Yuuri shook his head anyway; Viktor had just appeared in a live interview  _hours_ ago in bloody  _Australia_ and there was no way he could've made contact with Yuuri within a reasonable time even if he wanted to. It was just impossible.

His mind went back to the cashier guy in bright magenta from the convenience store, for whatever reason.

Yuuri shook his head again.

Yuri let out a loud  _tch_ and slammed his feet on the table, making Yuuri jump in surprise and Phichit whine in protest. Again, he muttered something in a language that neither Yuuri nor Phichit understood, but this time there was a strangely dejected look in his face. The more Yuuri stared at the young danseur, the less he could believe this was the same twelve-years-old who often appeared in the TV.

"Alright, so you haven't met that sorry excuse of a man. Fine then. We'll assume you awakened because of some freak accident."

"Awakened...?"

Yuuri stared at Yuri, who seemed like he was silently counting to hundreds as he observed the specimen named Yuuri Katsuki. The boy took a deep breath.

"You were awake, weren't you? During the dark hour?"

"The what?"

Yuuri asked, but deep down, suddenly, he knew exactly what it was.

"Red moon, bloody floor, nasty smell everywhere, no electricity going? I can describe it properly to you but you're smarter than that." He turned to Phichit. "You probably should go back to sleep. This is all irrelevant to you."

Phichit stared blankly. He had been doing so in the last few minutes. Yuuri had to shake Phichit to wake him up again.

"I-right. Yeah. This all sounds interesting but I'll need to mull over it." The Thai was half mumbling as he stood up. "I'll hear the rest from you later today, Yuuri?"

"Yeah, sure. Good night, Phichit."

"Night, captain."

The two Yuris in the room watched as Phichit disappeared into his room. There was a loud click when Phichit closed the door, and it wasn't a few moment after that that Yuri began to speak again.

"I suppose I'll really have to start from the very beginning.  _Ugh_." He crossed his arms again as he leaned back onto the armchair. He looked straight at Yuuri's eyes. "Tell me, will you believe me if I tell you that there is more than 24 hours in a day?"

 

_Um._

 

"No. My college life wouldn't be as insufferable as it is now if that's the case, to be frank."

"Hng, typical of you, correlating everything to your...very bubbled point of view."

Yuuri didn't know if he should take offense or not.

"The dark hour, which I know you had experienced earlier, is a time space that exists outside the so-called 23 hours-minus-4-minutes period in a day.As you have experienced, it is quite different from the rest of the day." Yuri pulled his feet off the table and crossed it on the chair. "You're lucky today's dark hour didn't last too long...though yesterday's didn't go for long either. Viktor must be feeling good lately."

Yuuri's list of questions grew longer.

"What does Viktor have to do with the, um, dark hour, anyway?"

"This and that, and almost everything, I suppose." Yuri eyed Yuuri coldly, as if trying to measure something up. "But you're not supposed to know that yet. You haven't even met the demons yet."

"D...demons?"

" _Demons_. I'm willing to bet they're out looking for you already, though I'm somewhat thankful the dark hour earlier only lasted less than a bell. I'm still too tired to fight and your weapon of choice was a fucking _hockey stick._ I can't believe you."

"Wait,  _fight_? You mean, you're out fighting in the middle of the night defeating demons and stuff?"

Yuri's raised eyebrows were simultaneously saying 'yeah why' and 'why are you so fucking retared'.

"That sounds like something straight from a video game."

"That's what you've always said.  _Nerd_."

"You're saying that like we've met before."

Yuri fell silent. The sigh that came following then was beyond exasperated. "I thought you caught up already when you pointed out I looked older but man, you're dense, aren't you? I really must say it in your face? Yeah? _Fine._ "

Yuuri tensed when the danseur suddenly stood up and loomed over him.

 

* * *

 

 "I'll make this simple,  _Yuuri Katsuki,_ because obviously I've been overestimating your sub-standard intellect all these time. I came from the future and I'm here to tell you that unless something _changes,_ you're going to die in three years time."

 

* * *

 

When Chris picked Yuuri up after his exam, Yuuri looked like a zombie.

"Hangover?" He asked, as they entered the car. Yuuri threw a tired glare at Chris as he closed the passenger side door. "What? It's technically weekend."

"I just came out from an exam. Do you think I'd really risk a hangover on exam day, Chris-san?"

"Point." Chris hummed. He turned the key to ignition, and the car smoothly purred alive. "But you know, I actually did go into an exam drunk at some point. So you can't really blame me for thinking that you might too. I know Yuuri Katsuki is lowkey very adventurous." He winked at Yuuri, who at that point simply wanted to slam his head to the dashboard of the Prius. "Don't go denting my car now, please."

"I'm not  _that_ big of a risk-taker, you know." Yuuri mumbled. "No, Chris-san. I was merely haunted by a ghost from the future who told me that I'm going to die in three years."

Chris stared at Yuuri.

"Are you sure you didn't drink anything last night?"

"We've gone through this conversation a billion times."

"Well, yeah, but every time it's almost as if you drank three bottles of champagne and then proceeded to forget that you drink at all. Like that one time."

" _One time_."

Chris laughed.

"Alright, alright. I'm not going to poke at that again." The car smoothly turned to follow the ramp into the highway as Chris stole a glance at Yuuri. "You got marbling worked over your tattoo?"

"What marbl-yeah." Yuuri stopped himself from gulping, but he could feel his nerves bubbling up in him. "Yeah, I did. Like it?"

He decided to suppress his own awkwardness and rolled up his jacket sleeves, showing the black-and-blue tint that had now covered half his forearms in subtle swirls. The crisp speckles of white snowflakes still dotted the shade, but some of the white had apparently grew to create the familiar snowflake fractal shapes.

"It looks very enchanting. And different." Chris smiled approvingly. "Very smooth, definitely high quality marbling right there. Where did you get it done?"

"A friend." Yuuri answered a little too quickly. Chris didn't seem to notice, however, and merely grinned as he returned his attention to the road.

"Introduce me next time? I'm planning to have my butt done one day."

"Your  _what_?"

Chris hummed to the song that played from the sound system and didn't elaborate further. It wasn't until four songs later that the strange sudden silence in the car was finally broken.

"You have anything to do this evening, Yuuri?" Chris asked, as he pulled up in front of Yuuri's apartment. "We can go out for a drink or two if you don't."

Yuuri was going to answer no when his phone suddenly buzzed. He gestured Chris to wait for a bit and pulled his phone out. It was a message from an unknown number, saying only three words.

 

_SAY YOU'RE BUSY_

 

Yuuri raised an eyebrow.

"Actually, I'll be a bit busy tonight, Chris-san." Yuuri slipped the phone back to his pocket. "I'll call you if there's a change?"

Chris' smile seemed a little off, but maybe it was just his feelings.

"Sure thing."

 

* * *

 

"Try to steer away from that freak."

If it wasn't for the fact the blond danseur was hilariously lying in front of the TV with his hair up in a small knot and his mouth filled with Phichit's secret doritos stash (if Phichit wasn't too busy skating with his classmates he'd be _devastated_ and Yuuri may or may not laugh in his face), Yuuri would have vocally expressed the offense he took from Yuri calling his friend a freak.

"Why?" was what came out instead.

Yuri snapped the doritos piece with a loud crack and turned to Yuuri. "I told you I came from the future. Can't you just believe me? _Tch_." Another crack was heard. "He's dangerous. You're not supposed to be so close to him, especially now that you're awakened."

"I still don't get this whole awakening thing." Yuuri threw his bag at the foot of the dining table and took the armchair as his seat. "You said my hand-" he rolles up his sleeves and showed his entire arms to Yuri. "-turned into these because it was a mark. But you never explained  _what_ mark. Does this awakening thing has anything to do with it?"

"Pretty much everything." The young danseur yawned lazily. "Basically at this point what's happening is that your power is leaking out. You're not supposed to awaken until like three years from now, but you did anyway... That blue is the physical mark that shows you've awakened."

Yuuri frowned as he tried to process everything in his head.

"Power?"

"Fucking hell, am I really stuck with having to explain everything to you?" Yuri groaned. "If you want to see exactly what sort of power I was talking about, stay awake at midnight and maybe I'll just show you. As for that freak of yours, here's my generous advice: stay the fuck away from him."

"I don't understand how he can be dangerous. I mean, Chris-san is....Chris. I've befriended him for years now and the only danger he put me in was when he brought me and Phichit into a club with a fake ID."

Yuuri flinched back as Yuri loudly yelled, clutching his head in frustration. "Look, just, JUST DO WHAT YOU'RE TOLD FOR NOW? I swear, pig, you're much more bearable when you don't ask so many questions! I should've let Viktor keep you -"

He abruptly stopped speaking.

"...look." Yuri was clenching his teeth as he spoke to Yuuri afterwards. "Just...just meet me at the roof just before midnight tonight and I'll explain everything. You might even get a demonstration or two if everything goes well."

 

* * *

 

When Yuuri's phone rang and woke him up, the clock was showing 11:44, and Yuuri wasn't impressed.

He groaned tiredly as he grabbed his phone, scratching his eyes as he tried to focus at the name on the screen. It was Chris.

He silently wondered why Chris would call him before he picked the call up.  _Maybe he wanted to ask if there had been a change of plan_ , Yuuri thought, as he slid the icon to take the call. "Good night, Chris-san."

"... _were you asleep already?_ "

"Mm."

" _Gosh, I...I'm sorry for waking you up, Yuuri._ "

Yuuri was going to provide a snide remark on the insincere apology, but his mind then went back to the little promise he made with Yuri to meet at the rooftop at midnight.

"No no, it's okay," Yuuri finally said. "I was planning to wake up at midnight after all, so I suppose your timing wasn't bad at all."

 " _I see. Midnight, eh. I wonder what kind of thing you're up to that you need to wake up at midnight!_ "

"That's...that's not for you to know, Chris-san."

The snickering that came from the other side made Yuuri want to punch the phone and see if his fist would go through to Chris' face.

" _Anyway, that means you're home, right? I'm right in front of the apartment door._ "

"Oh-a-are you!?" Yuuri quickly jumped down from his bed and made his way to the terrace just out from the living room. From above, he could see Chris' Prius parked just in front of the door, and the man was leaning on his car, wearing a relaxed black jacket over a white shirt and distressed jeans that made him look rather chic. Yuuri waved, calling out for the man with the phone still on his ear. "Chris-san!"

Chris looked up to the terrace and returned Yuuri's wave. One hand was still holding the phone on his ear, and his free hand held up a wrapped item that looked like a bottle. "I just got back from Lambda and they had this  _amazing_ sake-wine hybrid for sale, so I got you one!" He said to Yuuri, through the phone. "Get down here and take it? I don't think your landlady's dog will let me get near the door."

Yuuri took a quick glance at the wall clock, and it told him there was still another ten minutes before midnight came. It shouldn't take longer than a few minutes to take the bottle from Chris and have a little talk with the man, and he  _should_ be able to get to the rooftop in time - if the elevators worked. To Yuuri's memory, it had just been repaired less than a week ago, so it should be okay, right?

"Alright, give me a moment!"

 

If Yuri's words echoed in his mind somewhere, he had ignored it.


End file.
